Frantic Phone Calls at Four in the Morning
by lil-rock14
Summary: Post Skin. To the world, Dean Winchester had been officially dead for not even forty-eight hours. Everyone that cared about him was going to find out as soon as he had time to call them. One shot


**Frantic Phone Calls at Four in the Morning**

**So, I was watching the first season of Supernatural (because I'm bored and there's nothing else to do), and I came across the episode Skin. I just thought about what would've happened after Dean's 'death'. Here's what I came up with.**

Summary: Post Skin. To the world, Dean Winchester had been officially dead for not even forty-eight hours. Everyone that cared about him was going to find out as soon as he had time to call them. One shot.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story besides the idea behind it.**

_Dean Winchester (deceased)_

_Born: January 24, 1979_

_Died: March 7, 2006_

_Place of Birth: Lawrence, Kansas_

_Place of Death: St. Louis, Missouri_

To the world, Dean Winchester had been officially dead for not even forty-eight hours. Everyone that ever cared about him was going to find out what really happened as soon as he had time to call them. But that was only after he was as far out of Missouri as possible. A state or two was safe enough.

Calling people paled in comparison to all the other things he had to get settled on his plate. Like making sure someone declared dead didn't get caught crossing the state line. Or making sure Sam's injuries weren't anything serious. Or making sure that Rebecca Warren didn't want the he and his brother committed to a mental institution.

Luckily for him, they crossed the state line with ease, Sam's injuries were mostly bruises, and Becky, as Sam called his friend, was surprisingly calm with learning about what the Winchesters did for a living.

To top it all off, Dean had to find a motel where he and his brother could hide out for a few days.

After driving nonstop for four hours, he found a motel in a small town where he and his brother could stay. And after all of the constant checking and nonstop driving, Dean was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to just lie in a bed and sleep for a week.

And as soon as they checked into the motel and got their room, Dean took off his shirt, dropped his bag on the floor, put his cell phone on the nightstand between the two beds, and plopped on his bed. He was snoring minutes later. He completely forgot about doing damage control and the phone calls that he had to make. He could call them in the morning. How much trouble could it cause if he waited a few hours to called them?

Sam fell asleep minutes after.

LRLRLRLRLRLRLRLR

Hours into Sam's sleep, the sounds of Dean's mullet rock ringtone echoed through the motel room. As much as Sam wished for the song to end, he knew that his brother's phone wouldn't stop ringing unless someone picked it up. And Dean was basically unconscious, so that only left one option.

Sam blindly reached for Dean's phone and answered it. "Hello?" Sam mumbled into his brother's cell phone.

"Sam? Why are you answering Dean's phone?" someone on the other line yelled.

"What?" Sam asked. He was an exhale away from falling back asleep in the middle of the conversation.

"Where is Dean?" the person's voice wasn't getting any softer.

All Sam heard in the conversation was his brother's name. "It's for you." He tossed the phone to his brother and it hit Dean's forehead before it landed on his pillow. Sam went back to snoring seconds later.

"Ow," Dean whispered. He felt around his head for his cell phone. He finally found it two minutes later. "H'lo?" the older Winchester brother mumbled.

"Why aren't you dead?" the person on the cell phone yelled.

The voice sounded so familiar, even through his sleepy haze. He lifted his head off his pillow and peeled open his eyes. He pulled his phone away from his ear and saw the other hunter's name on the screen of his phone. And the time. "Caleb?" Dean asked. "It's four in the morning."

"Why the hell aren't you dead?" Caleb yelled again.

There were so many nicer ways and with nicer tones that the question could've been asked. But Caleb wasn't going for nice. He was far from it.

Dean didn't know if Caleb's voice was louder because he was actually semi-awake now, or because Caleb had gotten angrier. He hoped it was the first option. "What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"You better get yourself coherent, Blaze, because I want some answers," Caleb replied.

Dean was happy that his friend wasn't yelling anymore. It was a lot more pleasant to wake up to a kinder sounding tone. "I'm up." Slowly, he made his way into a sitting position. He reached for his shirt and threw it on. He stood up and headed outside the room.

"Why are you still alive?" Caleb asked, a lot calmer than before.

Dean grabbed his keys and stepped out of the room. He rubbed his arm as the cold hit him. "I guess it's just not my time to go," Dean laughed nervously.

"Not the time for jokes, Blaze," Caleb said bitterly.

Dean bit his lip, knowing that it was too soon to make jokes. Especially since he didn't know what he did to deserve getting yelled at for this time. "Why do you keep asking me why I'm still alive?" Dean asked, curious. His brain was slowly waking up and he couldn't make connections on his own yet.

"Because a police report with your name on it showed up on my radar saying that you tried to kill a girl. And then I find out later that you're deceased!" Caleb was back to yelling again.

"You saw that, huh?" Dean said nonchalantly, running his fingers through his bed hair.

Caleb huffed at the young hunter's unconcerned tone. "Did you think I wasn't going to? Why the hell didn't I get a phone call saying that it was all a mistake?"

"Not really a mistake. And we didn't have any time," Dean replied. "We had to get out of Missouri as soon as possible. Then we had to find a place to stay. Then sleep."

"I'd like to think that your family takes precedent over your sleep. Especially for just a two minute call."

"Like you'd let me only talk for two minutes."

Caleb stayed silent knowing that what his friend said was true. "So, how was your death a mistake? Or not a mistake?" Caleb asked, wondering what his friend meant earlier.

"Shapeshifter. Looked like me, that handsome devil," Dean answered. "I had to shoot it before it killed Sam."

"How do I know that you're not the shapeshifter?" Caleb asked. He knew everything about shapeshifters. He knew how it could've taken Dean's memories and Dean's place. With the new information, for all Caleb knew, he could've been talking to the thing that killed his best friend.

"Because Sam is still alive. If I were a shapeshifter, I would've killed Sam and changed into someone else. Can't leave any witnesses, right?"

"That makes sense." Caleb breathed a sigh of relief that his friend was still alive. "One more test. What is fourteen times twelve?"

"I don't have a concussion. How the hell is that supposed to prove that I'm not a shapeshifter?"

"Because the real Dean would've been a smartass instead of just said he didn't know the answer."

"I've been awake for five minutes, it's too soon to be doing math," Dean replied.

"So you're both all right?" Caleb asked, playing the role of the concerned older brother.

"Yeah. A little beat up, but nothing a little sleep won't fix."

"That's good."

"Wait, how did you say you found out about this?" Dean asked.

"Your name showed up on my police report program. And I saw your certificate of death. Felt really guilty about that. One bet I don't want to win. Then it got onto the network," Caleb said as if the answer were obvious.

"The network," Dean replied. He sounded scared. "If you saw it, that means…" his voice trailed off, cautiously. Then his call waiting on his phone told him that someone else was trying to contact him. He pulled the phone off his ear, and the name on the other side terrified him more than anything. "I have to go," he whispered.

"Why?" Caleb asked. He heard the fear in Dean's voice and it was bringing out the protective older brother in him. And John and Bobby would have his ass if anything happened to him.

"Bobby's on the other line," Dean replied. He felt his heart drop to his stomach.

Caleb understood his friend's fear. "Oh crap," was all he could whisper in reply.

"You're telling me."

"Good luck. Call me if you're still alive after this," Caleb said.

"Thanks," Dean replied and rolled his eyes.

"Take care, Blaze."

"I will."

"Oh, and Dean. The next time this happens, if you die, I'm kicking your ass," Caleb said and hung up.

Dean answered his cell phone and braced himself for the verbal assault he was about to receive. "Hello?" he answered compliantly.

"Why the hell aren't you dead?" Bobby yelled.

"Not even a hello," Dean said softly hoping Bobby didn't hear. "You would think that you would be sounding happier to know that I'm still breathing."

"Dean," Bobby said, preparing to scold the older Winchester brother.

"I'm fine, Bobby," Dean said, stopping the elder hunter from whatever he was going to say.

"And Sam?"

"He's fine, too," Dean answered.

"Start listing your injuries," Bobby ordered.

"Hurt shoulder."

"That's it?" Bobby asked. He didn't believe Dean was telling him the entire truth.

"Yes. And my pride."

"Pride?"

"I had to kill a shapeshifter that looked like me, Bobby."

"What the hell does that have to do with your pride?" Bobby asked. Dean wasn't making any sense with that statement.

"I lost a bet I made with Caleb. Remember? He said that I wouldn't make it to thirty. He was right, technically. And before you start the interrogation, yes, I'm the real Dean Winchester. I already went through an abridged version of 'Twenty questions with Dean' with Caleb," Dean answered every question that Bobby was thinking of.

"Okay," Bobby replied. "Have you tracked down your father?" he asked, needing to change the subject.

"No," Dean said, disappointed.

"Damnit," Bobby cursed.

"You don't have to worry, you know," Dean said. "I'm not going down that easy."

"I have to worry, Dean. You know you don't do it enough."

"I'll give you that," Dean said through a smile.

"And don't go acting like you're indestructible," Bobby warned.

"I won't."

Bobby knew that wasn't going to actually happen, but he was happy that Dean said he'd try. "But you're sure you're all right?"

"Yes, dad," Dean replied sarcastically. "Hurt, not dead. That's all I can ask for, right?"

"When it comes to you, yes," Bobby said with a short laugh. Dean couldn't help but let one out too. "Dean," Bobby started. He said it in such a way that brought Dean back into the conversation. "The next time something like this happens, give me a call, please. I don't want to be scared like that again," Bobby said, his voice softening with each word. "And with your dad doing God knows what," he added trying to cover up that his main concern was for the middle Winchester and trying to play off the chick flick moment that occurred.

But Dean stopped listening at the word scared. That word made Dean feel terrible. He could've cared less if there were unicorns prancing around singing songs of happiness with rainbows and Hallmark cards raining down. He did something to scare Bobby and he was ashamed and guilt-ridden.

He knew that he should've called everyone as soon as he and Sam got out of Missouri, but he was exhausted. He knew how deep the network went but he think that the news of his death would spread so fast. He didn't realize how much his death, although fake, would affect the people he cared about. Hell, Bobby saved his life more times than he could count, the least he could've done was dial a few numbers and give him a phone call. He made a mental note and a promise that he would never do it again. "I will, Bobby."

With that, the chick-flick moment ended. "And call Pastor Jim," Bobby said in his usual commanding tone. "No doubt he's gotten the news."

"I will," Dean said. Just then he heard a familiar beep in his ear. He looked at his phone. "Actually."

"Is that him on the other line?" Bobby asked.

"You guessed it." The friends in this specific circle of hunters sure were predictable.

"I'll talk to you later, Dean," Bobby replied.

"Thanks for calling, Bobby," Dean replied. "I'm sorry I didn't call you. But I promise I'll call you later."

"You better, you idjit," Bobby replied. Bobby hung up without saying goodbye.

Dean laughed and rolled his eyes. He leaned against the door to the room Sam was sleeping in, and slid down to sit on the floor. He answered his cell phone when it rang. "Hey, Pastor Jim," Dean answered.

"Good to hear you're still alive," Pastor Jim replied.

Dean knew he wasn't getting back to sleep any time soon. But he deserved it for not calling everyone sooner. Two down. He only hoped it was one more to go. But he knew he was hoping for way too much.

**Here is just something that I wanted to write. Hope it was entertaining and it turned out all right. Thanks for reading everyone. Please review. Lil-Rock**


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